


how high

by explicitones



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Oikawa Tooru is Bad at Feelings, Oikawa Tooru-centric, Unrequited, kagehina through oikawa's eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:27:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explicitones/pseuds/explicitones
Summary: Even when he was so diligently chasing after Oikawa, Tobio was only attached to results, to what he knew would get him ahead.Infuriating, Oikawa thinks, that Tobio could be so engaged yet so disenchanted—could recognize a killer serve, but be completely clueless about everything else.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	how high

**Author's Note:**

> I had the pleasure of discovering Haikyuu a few weeks ago and fell in love with the story and characters. I wanted to dip my toes into the fandom with some fanfic...
> 
> This takes place during season 2’s aoba johsai vs. karasuno game, Oikawa’s inner-musings and observations. Let’s suspend disbelief and say he could sustain all these thoughts while playing a game of full sets hahahh :P
> 
> Enjoy and stay safe~

The thing is, the opportunity was always there. Tobio is a genius setter, what’s more an incredibly versatile player, but his personality was always hard to reign in. Too rigid, too honest, the opposite of accommodating. Oikawa had always just assumed Tobio-chan was incapable of change. All the while, overtaking him unfailingly: determined, dedicated, and on top of that, bolstered by raw, natural talent—the one thing Oikawa doesn’t have. It’s infuriating. And while he’s obsessively preoccupied with how rapidly Tobio is progressing, he fails to take notice, the little nuances—and then it’s too late.

( Oikawa shows up to the practice match against Karasuno at the start of the third set. In some ways he’d meant to make a flashy entrance knowing Tobio-chan would be there. He’d wanted to send a message, _I don’t even think about you_ or something to that effect, something cool and aloof and very Don-Draper, nevermind how much he’d practiced being nonchalant the night before.

Tobio is still all scowls and death glares, a downright terrible attitude and a poor excuse for a team player. He rumbles with his peers but is respectful to the second and third-years, and Oikawa feels validated, because he’d called all of that, there was nothing to fear after all.

But at match point, Tobio tosses to the short kid in the number five jersey, and their quick attack takes Oikawa’s breath away. )

Tobio’s proponent for change manifests in the form of a tiny, orange, loud-mouthed blur. He looks like he should be in elementary or middle school, with cherubic-like features and the excitement of a puppy. He’s practically an unknown (who’s kidding, so is he), but Hinata Shoyo lights a fire in Tobio’s eyes that Oikawa can only recall from their days in Kitagawa First.

 _Please teach me how to serve, Oikawa-san!_ There were countless requests that went ignored, from a wide-eyed, eager kouhai who didn’t know the difference yet between friends and rivals. These days they’ll only ever meet on opposite sides of the net, but to Oikawa, that’s all they’ve ever been. And _so what_ —so what if he had agreed just once—the past is in the past.

Right.

( Then there are times when he lets his mind wander. To those early days—when puberty and emotions always got the best of him—and he wonders more about that _what if_. _Fine_ , he might say, _fine but only if you…_ Would he have been capable of it then, being the influence for change, being the sunlight in Tobio’s path? Could they have been a team? )

It’s unsettling, how infuriating Tobio can be, with his unyielding determination and grim expressions, so single-mindedly attuned to volleyball.

Even when he was so diligently chasing after Oikawa, Tobio was only attached to results, to what he knew would get him ahead. _Infuriating_ , Oikawa thinks, that Tobio could be so engaged yet so disenchanted—could recognize a killer serve, but be completely clueless about everything else.

On the other side of the court, Hinata Shoyo exclaims something loud, with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Tobio is up to serve and just before the whistle blows, he falters, gaze slipping for a brief second—blink and miss—to his teammate in the number ten jersey. Greatest decoy, huh.

 _Isn’t it exhausting_ , Oikawa wonders.

( “You’re jealous.”

“Of course I’m jealous, that brat has never had to try as hard, work as hard as me. Nevermind that he still does. It’s unfair. You should be more sympathetic, Iwa-chan.”

“ _No_ , I’m not talking about Kageyama you idiot.” )

And then, every now and then, there’s that. The firm set of Tobio’s mouth usually yields a satisfied smirk after a particularly good toss, that much Oikawa is familiar with, but—after a toss to chibi-chan that results in a resounding play, it curves into something new. Genuine and brimming with unabashed pride, as if he could feel anything positive for anyone else, the brat.

( “Have you ever considered whether or not you’re fully responding to chibi-chan with a toss he wants?” Those are his words, despite not ever wanting to give Tobio helpful advice. He says them half expecting, half believing Tobio won’t take it to heart anyway. Old habits die hard, Oikawa has a few of them himself, and he’s sure he knows Tobio better. )

In the third set, when their teams are tied 16-16, Hinata proclaims, “As long as you’ve got me, you’re the greatest!” It’s loud enough so the players on their side hear as well. Iwa-chan is impressed, and Kindaichi and Kyotani are predictably annoyed. On the other side of the net, Karasuno’s players are playfully amused, as if this were any other day. Oikawa steals a glance at Tobio who looks confused and, for the first time, bashful—the tips of his ears are red. His response is classically ruffian, but the intensity in his gaze is lit anew.

 _Oh_ , Oikawa thinks.

It’s the subtle differences, like.

Tobio is straight-laced, blunt, and bad with people, that’s a given. But with his Karasuno teammates, and in particular, with Hinata, he sheds those disagreeable traits. He looks delighted and earnest—like he’s having fun for once—with all his usual determination and fierceness. God, it’s almost endearing.

When Hinata plays, Tobio doubles down, as if it's their own personal competition. And that’s not all. There’s the captain of Karasuno too, and Mr. Pleasant, who’s no longer a regular but plays the game like it's his last; their menacing teddy-bear of an ace and the delinquent-looking ace-to-be. Each and every one of them is playing like a team.

( Seijoh is up 32 to 31. When Tobio tosses the last ball for Hinata, Oikawa knows with absolute certainty which attack it will be. He’d spent the prior night—against Iwaizumi’s better judgment and his own—rewinding and replaying Karasuno’s game against Dateko, scrutinizing their plays and memorizing Tobio’s moves.

When Tobio is desperate, when he’s backed up against a wall—when he realizes he’s not alone—he’ll make the play, to Oikawa’s chagrin, that proves he’s not the same Tobio-chan from before. )

“Bring it here!” Hinata yells, leaping into the air, and Tobio tosses, _how high_.

The thing is, the opportunity was always there—but not with him.


End file.
